A Single Step
by CleosDeath
Summary: Cassandra Syter calls her life average, but in some ways it couldn't have been more strange. And in hindsight, she notices how a single step could have changed it all. Retrospective life story. Eventually OC/Charlie. Chap 4: Double, Double !ON HIATUS!
1. Hey

_Ok, I've finally decided to put something up on here. It's in a bit of an odd format but I think you'll quickly get the hang of it. _

_It's set first gen, and runs alongside the original books. I hope to stick by the original JK story in nearly all circumstances, and to keep all plot with Harry the same, merely adding my own twist and a new character. You'll see what I mean. _

_The first few years will probably be pretty quick and vague, but it'll get more detailed later on._

_And yes, it will eventually be OC/Charlie Weasley, but that won't be for a while. As this is like a life story, they'll be other relationships first._

_Now, let's begin.

* * *

_

**Chapter One**_**  
Hey

* * *

**_

Hey.

How're you?

Really? Wow. That's so different to what everyone else says.

Yeah, I'm fine too, thanks for asking.

So… I guess I should start with the basics, huh? And I suppose the basics of the basics would be my name. Well, for most people it would be, but that's beside the point, isn't it? Cassandra Syter. That's my name, by the way, not some weird swear word or anything. But you can call me Cassie. Everyone does. God, that sounds real cheesy don't it? But in this case it's true, so I'll stand by it.

Like half of you guys out there, I'm a girl, but you could probably tell that from my name, couldn't you? Unlike most of you, however, I'm a witch. Yep, I know – broomsticks and black cats all round. And don't start with some lame hag joke, alright? 'Cause I've heard them all before. Trust me on that one.

Yeah, so being a witch is pretty cool I guess. I mean, I find it hard to imagine how all you muggles manage without magic all the time. Muggles? Oh, sorry, that's what we call people who can't use magic – 'we' witches and wizards that is. And other magical creatures, but it was us that came up with the word.

Believe it or not, however, it isn't all _ladeeda _in the wizarding world. Yes, we don't have to spending hours peeling potatoes by hand and we can travel miles in seconds, but it's not all that different. We still have to work. I myself work for the Ministry of Magic – yes, there's a ministry, no, only the muggle Prime Minister knows about it – in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Beast Division. And if you thought that was a pain to read, just imagine what it's like to say every time anybody asks what you do. And, just like muggles, before we work we have to go to school. I say have to, but it's really not that bad. Although in my opinion, they still give out far too much homework. It can be fun at times though. My school years were. Most of the time. And there are loads of laws controlling use of magic so we can't just do whatever we like, even if we have the magical talent. It doesn't all come naturally you know. Hence the schools.

Apart from the whole witch thing, I would call myself average. Not much special about me. Not anymore, anyway. Granted, I did use to be a bit different from others, but isn't everybody as a teenager? Yep. Average. That's me. Well, I breed Granians in the back garden, but that's about it. They're winged horses, in case you didn't know. Grey ones. Deadly fast. Quite a market for them these days. But they can be a bit of a handful sometimes, especially if you have to juggle as many things as I do. Still, it's better than doing nothing. My life – average yet full.

Now, my in-laws on the other hand… Phew, they would be classed as the opposite of average. There'll be a garlic loving vampire before their names are forgotten. Vampires? They exist, by the way, and are quite nice once you get to know them, despite the bad press. I dated one when I was young. Of course, that was before I fell in love.

Love, eh? You don't have to be a witch to understand that one, do you? Isn't it odd how they tell you all this stuff about _love at first sight_ and _the one_, but really it's no way that simple? It's difficult. If it wasn't then it wouldn't be so fantastic or sought-after. It's a game of trial and error and most of the time you lose. Sometimes so often that you just think of giving up and quitting. But if you don't even play the game, how do you ever expect to win?

Hmm.

Well, on that note I think it's high time that we get on with this. I suppose we should start where all good stories do.

The beginning.


	2. Things to be Sorted

_Before we start I'd just like to make it perfectly clear that I in no way consider myself a poet. Because of this I feel I need to apologise for the appalling sorting song. It's rubbish, I know._

**PART ONE  
**_**FIRST YEAR

* * *

**_

**Chapter Two  
**_**Things to be Sorted

* * *

**_

1st September 1989. That was the date I first laid eyes on Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I would spend the next seven years of my education. It was also the date I first had to get there, something that was rather difficult for all the hundreds of students to do simultaneously without attracting the attention of muggles. Luckily though, this problem had long since been solved by the time of my first year.

They called it _The_ _Hogwarts Express_. Yes, very original name seeing as it went to Hogwarts Castle. It's basically an old-fashioned muggle steam train. In fact, it departs from a muggle station in London – King's Cross to be precise – the only real difference being the platform number. Nine and three quarters. Well, if you've ever been to King's Cross station you'll say that there is no such platform. But you, just like every other muggle there, will have been deceived. For there is such a platform, and getting on to it is so simple you could pop down there and find it tomorrow if you'd like. But I don't suggest it. You might get some funny looks.

* * *

"And you will make sure to write at least once before the end of the year, won't you? I know how you get sidetracked and carried away."

"Granma, I'll write every week if you want," I told the frail old lady who was currently digging into her large green handbag for some unknown item she would probably never find.

"No, dear, of course that won't be necessary. How are you supposed to have fun with all your new friends if you keep on dashing off to write to silly old me?" I rolled my eyes. The trolley in front of me rattled loudly as I pushed it along Platform Nine, the large brown trunk swaying ominously backwards and forwards, clanging against the metal frame every few seconds. Granma Sue checked her pocket watch nervously. "Oh dear, we better hurry now."

I looked up at the large yellow numbers displayed on the platform notice. "What d'you mean? We've got at least another twenty minutes before the train leaves."

"Well, yes," she said as she quickened her pace slightly, "but you can never be too early, can you?" Granma Sue always fretted like this. I had grown accustomed to it by now.

An older boy with an even more heavily packed trolley bumped into me as he rushed forward. I barely heard his mumbled apology as he sped on. A woman dressed in a large floral dress and top hat ran after him, calling for him to slow down. Granma Sue muttered something under her breath about drawing attention. I saw what she meant. We were both used to muggle dress, having lived in a muggle town for so long, and it still surprised me how inept other wizards could be when it came to fashion. Granma Sue looked quite normal, really. Her green pencil skirt and paisley shirt gave her a somewhat smarter image than I was use to, but her short, curly, white hair was the same as always. It gave her that homely grandmother appearance I had come to love. Of course, she wasn't really my grandmother, but I had called her Granma Sue ever since I met her, and that was how I now saw her.

She stopped abruptly in front a large metal barrier between Platforms Nine and Ten.

"Well, dear, this is it. Hang on." We paused as a couple of older businessmen in pinstriped suits wandered past towards the end of the platform. "There we are. Now, quickly dear, I think there's a train arriving."

I nodded. Granma Sue had told me years ago about the unusual way of getting onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Trying desperately to be as inconspicuous as possible, I gently leaned against the seemingly solid barrier. I was not met by the cold sting of metal. Instead, I fell straight through, right into the glorious sunshine that streamed down from above. I pulled my trolley through and turned, staring avidly at everything and anything I could lay my eyes on.

A large red steam engine stood beside the platform, its paint glistening despite the thick grey smoke that was billowing from its chimney, spindly golden letters spelt out 'The Hogwarts Express' on its side. Contrary to my assumptions about being too early, the platform was packed with teenagers and parents – the mothers trying not to cry and hugging their children far too tightly, fathers slapping sons on the back and trying to calm their wives. The kids themselves didn't look at all upset. The faces were shining with the expression of hope and excitement at the prospect of another school year with their friends. A large painted sign hang overhead, reading the platform number.

"Yes, yes, quite something, isn't it?" I turned to my left. Granma Sue had joined me, rummaging once again in her handbag for an imaginary object. "Come on, we're in the way here."

I nodded, still in awe at the scene, and followed as she led me further down the platform. She stopped about half way down and gave me the biggest bear hug I had ever received. She pulled apart and looked me straight in the eyes.

"Now, be good, won't you? Don't get in too much trouble. But don't be scared to write if you're not completely happy. And don't forget to keep your socks cl-"

"Granma," I interrupted before she started on the undergarment lecture, "I'll be fine. I can look after myself. You know I can."

She bit her bottom lip and didn't look convinced. "Of course you can." She said finally. "Now, go on, you've only got five minutes before it leaves and you'll want to find a good seat, won't you?"

"Bye." I replied happily before heaving my overstuffed trunk from the trolley, pulling open the door and shoving it up the step. I was about to climb up after it but stopped suddenly. I turned back to Granma Sue and embraced her almost as tightly as she had done previously. "I'll miss you."

She ruffled my hair. "I'm sure you will." She whispered affectionately, laughing slightly as she did. I jumped up onto the train and shut the door, looked down at my trunk and started lugging it towards the nearest free compartment I could find. I peered out the window and saw Granma Sue waving. There was a slightly sad look in her eyes. It was then that I realised that with me gone for the entire term, she would be completely on her own. As I waved back, hoping that the guilt didn't show on my face, I resolved myself to write to her by the end of the first week. After forcing the trunk up into the luggage rack I sat and gazed out the window once more. Granma Sue was looking through that handbag once more. I chuckled, leant back into the seat and felt the train grumble to a start as it slowly pulled away.

The compartment door slid open.

"Excuse me, are these seats free?"

I rotated my head to see who had spoken to me. A boy with wavy light brown hair and grey eyes stood in the doorway, smiling politely a perfect smile. I instantly sat up a little straighter and tried to flatten my hair.

"Uh, yeah, sure," I told him. He thanked me before walking in, closely followed by a black boy with dreadlocks and a pretty girl with blonde hair. He sat opposite me and extended a hand, which I took almost too eagerly.

"I'm Cedric by the way. This is Lee and Sarah." He pointed to each of the others. I smiled and nodded.

"Cassie."

"So," Lee began while taking out a packet of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans and opening them, "your first year too?" He chucked an orange coloured bean into his open mouth casually. I nodded in reply, persuading myself not to goggle at the handsome boy opposite me. "Cool. What house d'you think you'll be in? I just hope I'm not in Slytherin, other than that though I'll be happy." I gulped internally. "I guess Gryffindor would be the coolest, and Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad, but I doubt I'm clever enough for that – an empty broom closet, that's what my dad always calls me."

"I'm not surprised." Sarah commented. The purple bean missed Lee's mouth and he looked insulted. We all laughed. Sarah turned back to me, her blonde ringlets bouncing slightly as she did. "I like your hair colour, by the way. Do you dye it?"

Before I could open my mouth to respond, Lee jumped in, "looks like you're not too smart yourself. I believe the correct grammar would be 'do you kill it?' – hang on, why would she kill her hair?"

Sarah rolled her eyes. Cedric looked as equally puzzled as Lee.

"Dye. D – Y – E. Not D – I – E, stupid." She was met by blank stares from the two boys.

"You're muggle-born." I said matter-of-factly. Now Sarah looked confused, as if she didn't know what that had to do with it, but nodded nonetheless. I explained for everyone benefit. "She means colour it. Wizards don't dye their hair. There _are_ some complicated transfiguration spells and a few potions on the market that basically do the same thing, but I think they're called something else."

"Oh, so do you use any of them?"

"No." I replied kindly. "I was born with it like this." Subconsciously, I ran a hand through the tips of my straight shoulder length hair. Too be honest, I hadn't always been happy with the colour. When I was younger people used to stare at me as if I was odd – the deep grey looked as if it ought to belong to a much older person, someone that used to have black hair but was now changing colour – but I was used to it by now. And in certain lights I guess it could be pretty.

"Nice." Cedric remarked and I couldn't help but blush a little. Just then the door slammed open and we all jumped to see what had caused it. A boy who must have been a couple of years older than us leaned against the frame out of breath. His ruddy freckled face was almost the same colour as his curly red hair. He looked around the compartment as if searching for someone.

"Has anyone seen a pair of red-head twins?" he finally wheezed out. All of us shook our heads in answer. "I am so going to kill those two," the boy mumbled while turning to leave, "haven't even seen the grounds yet and they're in trouble, well when mother he-"

The door slid shut behind him. All four of us looked questioningly at the others.

"What d'you think that was about?" Lee asked.

"No idea."

* * *

The rest of the journey passed in friendly conversation, only interrupted twice; once by the food trolley as it passed – Sarah, not having tasted wizarding sweets before, was particularly pleased by the Fizzing Whizbees – and once again by the ginger boy asking after the twins. Soon enough though night had fallen and the loud rattling of the train came to a screeching halt.

Leaving my trunk onboard as instructed by the bodiless voice that had rung throughout the train five minutes earlier, I clambered down and felt my feet connect with concrete. I got out of the way of all the other students that were now disembarking onto the small station platform, all dressed in the same black robes and noticed that most were emblazoned with one of four coats of arms. I recognised them as the marks of the students' respective houses and I realised with a shudder that I too would soon have one gleaming on my chest.

"You all right, Cassie?" Cedric asked me sounding concerned. Obviously I hadn't hidden my apprehension as well as I had thought. I forced a smile onto my face.

"Yeah, fine. Where d'you think we're meant to go?"

The question had barely escaped my lips when a deep booming voice called over the chattering of the students.

"Firs' years! Firs' years over 'ere! Come on now! Firs' years!"

The cool breeze whipped around my ankles as we started forcing our way through the crowd towards the source of the voice. I didn't have to go far to see just where it was coming from. A man the height of at least two of the very tallest of the students, and five times as wide, with a big bushy beard and long straggly hair the colour of soot was standing at the edge of the crowd, a lantern swaying in the wind as it hung from his right hand. I heard Cedric gasp beside me. Either this man had got on the wrong side of an Engorgement Charm or he was half-giant. No way could he be considered just a 'large man'.

"'Urry up there, you two!" he shouted over the horde while waving in our direction. We pushed past some of the older students and finally reached the place where a group of extremely nervous looking first years were standing, each trying not to be the closet to the colossus man.

"Hullo, Hagrid." Two boys stepped forwards, seemingly impervious to the infection of fear that had sprouted amongst the first years. I knew immediately that these were, without a doubt, the infamous red-haired twins.

"Well, 'ello there," the giant squinted down through his beetle black eyes at the pair, "you must be the Weasley twins. Your brother Percy was looking for you, you know."

The twins shared a mischievous grin. "Oh yeah, we know."

"Righ' then." the overgrown man turned to the rest of us again. "I'm Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Grounds at 'ogwarts. I'm escorting you all up to the castle." Hagrid twisted around abruptly, almost knocking over one of the smaller girls in the process. He didn't seem to notice. "Righ', off we go, then!"

We followed Hagrid out to the edge of a vast black lake, the edges of which we could barely see, where many small rickety wooden boats floated expectantly.

"Come on, then." Hagrid boomed, "no more than four to a boat, tha's it."

I clambered down into the small boat. Cedric followed, as did Sarah. I spotted Lee out the corner of my eyes getting in one with the twins and a brown haired girl. No rowing was necessary and the boats gently rolled across the silent water, Hagrid whistling merrily from his own personal vessel. The lake was calm and the smooth surface looked like silk as ripples echoed from the wake of the crafts. I almost did a double take as I looked around and saw a long grey tentacle sticking out the water from a distance, as if waving to the newcomers. Thick trees surrounded the eastern side of the lake and appeared to stretch further north around the edge, the sounds of a forest at night could be heard even from this far away.

"No freaking way." I heard Sarah whisper. I rotated myself to see what had caught her attention and felt the breath catch in my throat. Rising high above the northern shore towered a monumental castle, its window glittering gold against the black sky, its many towers leaning so precariously that I was certain that the only thing supporting them was magic. The boats gradually drew nearer. Muttering could be heard from all the students, either expressing their wonderment or guessing what would await them inside. We hit the banks with a loud knock, climbed from the boats and followed Hagrid up the impressive staircase, through the great oak doors into the stone entrance hall. A great deal of noise was coming from one of the doors off to the right where the other students obviously now waited. Hagrid led us into a small chamber opposite the room where the noise was escaping from. A tall, stern-looking witch was waiting for us there.

"Goodevenin' Professor." Hagrid greeted her.

"Thank you, Hagrid." She replied in a voice equally stern to her appearance. Hagrid left. "Good evening, students." The witch greeted us all. "I am Professor McGonagall, teacher of transfiguration and Head of Gryffindor House. In a moment now we will be entering the Great Hall where you will all be sorted into your respective houses. These are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."

"Anyone in Slytherin gets dungbombs thrown at them!" One of the Weasley twins shouted. Half the people laughed, including, I noted, Lee, Sarah and Cedric. I suddenly felt rather ill. I had a worrying suspicion that I was about to lose my new friends. McGonagall narrowed her eyes at the twin who had spoken and everyone immediately fell silent.

"That will be quite enough, thank you. Now, while you are here you will eat, sleep and have classes with your house. House points are rewarded for good behaviour, and taken away for any _rule_-_breaking_. This naturally means that selecting the right house for you is a very serious matter indeed – one that is not to be taken lightly." I saw her eyes flicker to the Weasleys once more. "The sorting ceremony is therefore thorough and I expect best behaviour. _From all of you_." There was a silence as she looked us individually in the eyes, as if trying to spot any wrong-doing before it had occurred. She seemed to find none. "Very well. If you'd follow me."

We did. Back across the Entrance Hall and through the doors leading to what I could only assume would be the Great Hall. Four long tables stretched before us, each packed with busily talking students. Above these hung great banners displaying each of the house logos. On the side furthest from us the great lion of red and gold for Gryffindor, next the yellow and black badger of Hufflepuff, then the blue and bronze eagle of Ravenclaw, and nearest us the coiling green and silver serpent of Slytherin. Chatter began to die away as the older years realised we were there, walking down the Hall towards the fifth table, where teachers sat, most smiling warmly in greeting. My attention, which had previously wandered to the high arched ceiling that was enchanted to look exactly like the outdoor sky – now shining with glittering stars and barely a cloud in sight – was snapped back down to the curious faces swarming the hall as we were brought to a halt in front of the teachers' table, facing the rest of the school. I felt increasingly nervous as every second passed. Granma Sue had assured me that the sorting ceremony was easy and completely painless, but that didn't mean I wouldn't make a complete fool out of myself.

Professor McGonagall came back into sight carrying a stool in one hand and a tattered brown hat in the other, which she then continued to place onto the stool in front of us. She stepped back. Everyone in the room appeared to be watching the hat excitedly, as if waiting for something to happen. Then, quite suddenly, there was a loud ripping noise and a seam in the hat came undone. It scrunched up and soon was looking something akin to a mouth. This image was only confirmed when the hat promptly burst into song, words flowing out over the hall from the mouth-seam.

"_Long before the goblin killings  
And witch burnings of old  
Four wizards came together thinking  
Of young minds ready for the mould.  
They started this fine school, you see,  
But soon there was a hitch.  
How to decide just whom to teach?  
Which wizard and which witch?  
The reply came from off their heads  
And sits before you here.  
A thinking cap was all they sought  
The answer it seems was clear.  
And so to sort - that is my job  
And why I was first made.  
Four houses stretch before you now  
But just one shall be your aid.  
Perhaps you lie in Gryffindor,  
Where only the bravest dwell.  
Or else you, like fair Ravenclaw,  
Know all there is to tell.  
Maybe Hufflepuff will do you well,  
Loyal and pure of heart.  
And lastly it's their cunning ways  
That set Slytherin apart._

"_Now which one will do you true?  
You may think you know,  
But the truth lies far deeper than  
Your surface thoughts will go.  
But no matter, for inside your head,  
There are no clues that I can't trace.  
So put me on and I will put  
You in your rightful place."_

The hall erupted into a sea of applause. Some of the older students stood, cheering, some even whistled in praise. I sighed in relief. Wearing a hat couldn't do any harm, right? But then again, that thing about seeing everything inside my mind I did not like. What if it shouted all my thoughts out in front of the entire school? Was that the true test? To see how we would react in that situation?

The applause grew to a slow stop. Professor McGonagall stepped forwards once more, now holding a long piece of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will sit and place the Sorting Hat on your head. Once your house has been decided you will join them at their table. Abraham, Philip."

A weedy looking boy edged apprehensively forwards. He sat, but when he placed the hat on top of his head it was so large it fell right over his eyes. There was silence as everyone waiting for something to happen. Philip Abraham fiddled with the sleeves of his robes anxiously. Then quite suddenly-

"Ravenclaw!" the hat bellowed at the top of its lungs. The table under the blue banner burst out cheering. Philip removed the hat and almost ran over to the free seats near the end. McGonagall raised the list again and peered down through her square spectacles.

"Bletchley, Miles."

A large boy plonked his way onto the stool, seized the hat and pulled it onto his head. There was only a few seconds pause before-

"Slytherin!"

The Slytherin table clapped joyously. The Gryffindor table let out a joint boo in protest. I could tell that the old rivalry was still firmly in place between those two houses.

The sorting continued in much the same fashion as one by one the terrified first years tried on the rugged Sorting Hat. I noticed that the hat seemed to take a different amount of time deciding for each student. Calingham, Sarah was put in Ravenclaw after a good five minutes of silence. Whereas, Diggory, Cedric had barely sat down before the hat cried Hufflepuff. Johnson, Angelina and Jordan, Lee were both assigned to Gryffindor. Montague, Simon went to Slytherin and Noman, Catherine to Ravenclaw. Soon the number of students that remained standing had been depleted to only a handful. I gradually became more and more worried.

Finally, Stimpson, Patricia sat at the Gryffindor table and McGonagall called, "Syter, Cassandra."

I took a deep breath and approached the stool. The brown leather of the hat slid over my eyes and rested on the bridge of my nose, casting an eerie blackness over my vision. I waited patiently. It was a second before anything happened.

"Ah, tricky little one, you are, aren't you?" I jumped at the croaky voice that had suddenly whispered into my ear. This hat was talking to me. And I was pretty certain I was the only one who could hear it. "Yes, yes, only you can hear, just as only they could hear when I spoke to them. Now, where to begin? I see loyalty in you. And courage. Yes, lots of courage. But your mind. Hmm… The mind that could only belong to a true-" I braced myself as the hat shifted, ready to scream what I knew would be Ravenclaw. But it didn't. There was complete silence as it quite dramatically stopped. "Hang on. What's this I see? Ho ho ho, you are a tricky girl, aren't you? Syter? Yes, I see now. Well, this changes things, doesn't it? And what do you think?" _Just place me wherever you think I'll do best._ "Clever little thing. Well, in that case, I suppose it ought to be-,

"Slytherin!" the hat cried. I slipped it off my head and made my way over to the table under the green banners. As I passed the Ravenclaw table I saw that Sarah had an odd expression on her face, as if she couldn't believe she had been talking to a Slytherin for the entire journey and not have realised it. I guessed that even muggle-borns knew of Slytherin's not too great reputation. I sat next to a tall dark haired boy I recognised from McGonagall's name-calling as Adrian Pucey. I turned to watch the rest of the sorting. Both the Weasley twins went to Gryffindor and after Eileen Xian joined the Hufflepuff table a silence swept the hall and an elderly gentleman with long flowing silver hair and beard and half-moon spectacles stood from behind the teachers' table. I recognised him from pictures as Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Order of Merlin, First Class, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, and, most importantly, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Welcome! Welcome!" he addressed the entire hall. "To our new students – a kind welcome. To the rest of us – welcome back. And so another school year begins. Firstly I would like to inform all new students and remind the older ones that the Forbidden Forest is completely out-of-bounds. Mr Filch, our caretaker has also generously asked me to remind you that magic is not permitted in _any_ of the hallways. As well as this, there have been several new items added to the list of contraband objects. The full list of 416 items may be viewed in his office, as I am certain many of you will be only too eager to do. Now, I shall not make your stomach's wait any further, for I am sure they are feeling quite put out from lack of food. So, let us eat."

And with a swift flick of his wand mountains of food instantaneously appeared on the golden plates along the tables. There must have been more roast potatoes than I had seen over my entire lifetime. Roast meats, pies and casseroles, dishes of vegetables and sauces cluttered the table so much it was difficult to know where one plate ended and another began. I was so awestruck I didn't know what to do with myself.

"I suggest the pork. Of course, it's not quite as good as the stuff I get at home, but it's not too far off." I looked at the boy who had spoken to me from across the table. A blonde boy was helping himself to a piece of carrot. He placed the bowl down on the table and extended a hand. I took it politely, trying not to dip my sleeve in the gravy. "Terence Higgs, fourth year."

"Uh, Cassandra Syter, but call me Cassie."

Terence pointed to the girl next to him. "This here is Olivia Gorson, she a third year." The skinny girl had rather sallow cheeks that, in addition to her black hair and blank expression, made her look rather vampiric. I smiled at her. She simply nodded in recognition. "So." Terence offered me the plate of pork chops. I shook my head.

"I don't eat meat." I told him. A frown crossed his face.

"Why ever not?"

"Because I don't need to. And personally I'm not overly keen on the idea of killing needlessly." I said as I instead spooned some parsnips onto my plate. Terence put the pork down but continued to eye me warily, as if expecting me to sprout wings or something.

"You're entitled to your own opinion, I suppose." Terence put a large chop in front of him and started cutting into it. He turned to the brutish-looking boy next to him. "So, Flint, what rules do you think Dumbledore will foolishly try to impose on us this year?"

"Somin' stu'id." Flint said between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes.

"But," I spoke up. All three of the older students looked at me expectantly. "He's meant to be a really good Headmaster, isn't he? I mean, he's one of the greatest wizards of the age."

Terence actually dropped his fork. "Who on earth brought you up, Cassie? Where have you been living?"

"Syter," Olivia said calmly, "I have not heard that name before."

Terence actually gasped. "You're not a mudblood, are you?"

"What has that got to do with anything?" my voice came out slightly louder than I had planned. "Some of the best wizards ever alive have been muggle-born!" The others stared at me in disbelief. "And for your information, I'm about as pure blood as it gets! I just don't feel it makes me better than anyone else!"

No one spoke to me for the rest of the feast.

* * *

So my first meal at Hogwarts had not been a complete success. And if I had thought that was bad, the next day would prove that it was about to get a whole lot worse.


	3. Friends at Hogwarts

Chapter Three  
_**Friends at Hogwarts

* * *

**_

2nd September 1989. Not my best birthday ever.

You see, Hogwarts has an outstanding tradition for gossip. Once it starts there's simply no way to stop it. I hadn't even left the feast before I heard rumours flying up and down the Slytherin table about how I supported muggle-borns. I even heard the words 'blood traitor' uttered a few times.

I should explain. Slytherin house has somewhat of a reputation. They say that more dark wizards have come out of that house than any other, and a surprising number of those dark wizards have the idea that anyone muggle-born – or _mudblood_ as they like to put it – don't deserve to be taught magic, that it should be something kept entirely within wizarding families. It's well-known that Salazar Slytherin himself supported these views. A ridiculous idea if you ask me. If we did that then soon the wizard population would die out altogether. There simply aren't enough of us left. But members of Slytherin house still appear to take this idea as compulsory for anyone within it. Anyone who doesn't is just, well, _odd_. And Slytherins aren't known for being the most _accepting_ people on the planet.

So there I was – a plump hen in the midst of a horde of hungry foxes. A nice way to start the school year if ever I've heard of one.

* * *

It was a surprisingly warm day for September. After being subjected to the taunts and snubs of my fellow Slytherins for the entire length of the previous evening and hearing several not-so-polite comments as I came down to the common room this morning, I quickly decided to skip breakfast – something that would soon become a reoccurring habit of mine. As it was a Saturday and lessons wouldn't start until the following Monday I deemed it necessary to escape from the Slytherins for a while and instead explore the castle. My plans were altered though when I had left the dungeons and reached the Entrance Hall. The sunshine streaming through the open doors was just too enticing to resist.

As I wandered down the stone steps out of the front doors, I got my first glimpse of the Hogwarts grounds in daylight. The golden sunlight glimmered down as it crested the high surrounding mountaintops, reflections shimmering off of the giant lake before me. The dew on the grass shone and the rolling forest stretched for what seemed like miles into the distance. I walked a bit around the shore of the lake, marvelling at the many high turrets of the castle and casting tentative glances into the darkness of the thick forest, wondering what creatures lived inside. After a good thirty minutes walk I plonked myself down under the boughs of an old apple tree and stared at the wondrous sight before me.

It had been less than five minutes before I heard the sound of wings and a soft hooting making its way towards me. I immediately recognised the small screech owl that landed beside me; it was Granma Sue's. I stroked the top of Horron's head as I quickly untied the small parcel he was carrying from his outstretched leg. The simple note attached read 'Happy 12th birthday. Hope you're having a nice time at school.' Yeah, I was having such a fun time with my house ignoring me.

Horron jumped up onto my shoulder where he sat and affectionately nibbled at my ear. I eagerly ripped open the small parcel. Granma Sue's birthday presents were always extremely thoughtful, even if she couldn't afford anything grand. The paper fell away to reveal a small red book, its title written in spindly gold letters across the front – _Why I didn't die when the Augurey cried_ by Gulliver Pokeby. Thoughtful, indeed. It had been less than two months since I had asked Granma Sue what the man on the radio meant when he said someone's fame was like the Augurey's song. She had explained how the Augurey used to be thought of as a death omen, but was now known simply to foretell the falling of rain. She had also told me that I should read the book written by the man who discovered this, as it followed his patient research into the myth and I would surely be interested in what he had to say. It surprised me that Granma still remembered the conversation. I made a mental note to write to her saying thank you that evening.

I flipped open the book and started reading the elegant print. I had reached the end of chapter two, '_The Storm', _when I heard voices approaching. I looked up and spotted a familiar head of brown hair amidst a pool of others, all talking cheerfully as they wandered around the lake. I closed the book and stood up.

"Cedric!" The boy turned at his name as I jogged up to meet the group of students. Cedric looked at the others nervously, said something to them that I couldn't hear, and then walked towards me. I smiled as we both stopped opposite each other. "Hey," I greeted.

"Oh, um, hi Cassie." He replied looking increasing nervous. The smile left my face.

"What's wrong?"

A small smile appeared at his mouth, but I noticed it stopped several inches short of his eyes. "Nothing. So what did you want?"

I was getting uncomfortable at this point. "I just wanted to say hello, see how you are, you know."

"Oh, yeah, of course," it looked to me as if he was finding it increasingly hard to think of what to say. "I'm good." There was an unsettling silence after this as I waited for him to ask me how I was in return. He didn't, instead choosing to shuffle on the spot and refuse to meet my eyes. He swiftly looked over his shoulder again at his new friends, all of whom I noticed were wearing cloaks with the Hufflepuff emblem. He turned back to me. "Listen, um, well, we were just on our way back to the common room, so I guess, err, yeah, I'll see you around sometime or something."

"Oh," I bit back the emotions I was feeling at the blatant snub and forced my lips to curl upwards, "ok, see you, then."

I made a half hearted wave as I backed away, making it look as if I was on my way somewhere too and not in the least bit upset that he had other places to be. He looked guilty for a second before returning to his friends and they made their way up towards the castle. I turned and started marching resolutely off around the edge of the forest, wanting to get as far away from Cedric as possible.

Rumours may spread fast at Hogwarts, but it seemed as if some didn't have the magical house-jumping quality that I had hoped they had. For all his efforts at coming up with an excuse, it was obvious that Cedric simply didn't want to be around me, and the reason was even more so – my house. News that I wasn't a stuck-up, muggle-born hating, twisted, foul, evil, member of Slytherin hadn't reached his ears yet, and I seriously doubted that it ever would. While the Slytherins wanted nothing to do with me, I was certain they would not be generous enough to tell the rest of the school this. The other houses were all sure to treat me just like any other serpent. Even those who I had considered friends only half a day previously.

I was in such a blind mix of anger, rejection, loneliness, and hatred that I barely noticed where I was going until I walked straight into something very large and solid, sending me ricocheting backwards onto the grass. My downfall made a small 'umpf' noise. I quickly looked up to see what, or who, it was.

"Watch it!" I mumbled an apology under my breath. The huge groundskeeper that had led the first-years across the lake last night sighed and extended a dustbin lid sized hand. I took it and was lifted almost a foot off the ground before being plonked back on my feet again. The giant looked at me and I noticed worry in his eyes. He raised a sausage finger and pointed at my face. "Yeh alrigh' there?"

I raised a hand to see what he meant. For the first time I noticed that my cheeks were damp with the stains of tears. I quickly wiped at them and nodded, not wanting anyone to see me cry over something so stupid.

"Come on then, I've got a brew on anyway, why don' yeh come have a cup of tea inside?" Startled, I looked around and realised we were standing outside a small wooden hut with smoke billowing out of the chimney.

"Oh, I shouldn't, I mean-"

"Codswallop. Inside with yeh." I wiped my face again to make sure all the tears were gone and nodded. The man stepped up to the door of the cottage. "I'd stand back if I were yeh." I didn't understand what he meant and in the second I spent trying to work it out he had opened the door and a huge black boarhound was leaping out, bounding straight towards me. The dog jumped up and knocked me back to the ground, and immediately started to assault my face with a slobbery tongue. "Down with yeh, Fang!"

After the initial shock of what had happened, I realised I was in no great danger from the affectionate creature and burst out laughing. I stroked the dog at the same time as manoeuvring it off of me and standing up. The dog licked my fingers lovingly. The groundskeeper scratched the back of his head.

"Sorry about tha'."

For the first time since arriving at Hogwarts, my smile was genuine.

* * *

I left Hagrid's cabin an hour later feeling completely myself again. We had talked about many things, from what lessons I was looking forward to most to the proper way of handling Horklumps, but not once did Hagrid ask me why I had been crying. I was grateful for this. I wasn't particularly in the mood for explaining to him about my rejection from fellow students and that previously thought of friends now wanted nothing to do with me. The conversation twisted and turned, but somehow kept arriving back at the same topic – magical creatures of all varieties. Hagrid was bordering on obsessive about some of the more dangerous beasts, but I was equally eager to hear about the kinds of animals that lived within the grounds of Hogwarts – including, I was delighted to hear, thriving populations of unicorns and centaurs. He had been right, of course; a strong cup of tea and pleasant conversation was exactly the thing to make me forget about my friendship troubles. Even more so, it was one step closer to solving them. I could now safely say I had at least one friend here, two if you included Fang the boarhound. Sure, it would have been nicer if it had been a student, but Hagrid was among the nicest of people I had ever met. It would be a crime to dislike him.

I had safely returned to the sanctuary of my dormitory, which I shared with the four other Slytherin girls in my year, in order to put the book Granma Sue had given me in my trunk before heading off to lunch, when my good mood was faltered. Opening my trunk, I almost shrieked in shock at the sight before me. Everything inside was completely unrecognisable from what it had been before. Instead of the brand new, creaseless robes was a crumpled mess. Instead of the neat crisp books was a pile of dog-eared papers. All of which were covered in what looked like blue ink. I started rummaging through the remains, inspecting the damage while still in disbelief.

"Oh, no!" I whipped my head around at the shrill voice coming from the open doorway. A mousy-looking girl with freckles was standing there, an expression of mock horror on her face. I vaguely remembered her name being Francis somethingorother. The three other girls I shared my dormitory with were standing behind her, smirking slightly. "Dear me, what happened to all your lovely things?"

I stood upright suddenly. The main girl gave a jolt of surprise. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about this would you?" I practically shouted in their direction. Mouse put a hand over her mouth feigning ignorance.

"Us? Why would we waste our time touching filthy blood-traitor possessions?" She looked off thoughtfully. "Maybe it was a rat?"

"A rat?" Now I was yelling.

"Yeah, you know sometimes they can get quite large and-"

"Get out!" I screamed, pulling my wand out of my pocket. All four pairs of eyes widened, but turned and exited the room nevertheless.

I sighed and started trying to remember the spell to remove ink stains. My good mood had suddenly vanished.

* * *

That was the day I first learnt to lock my things away when I wasn't around them, something that would come in handy over the next seven years. It hadn't yet been an entire day since I arrived, and I was already starting to regret letting the Sorting Hat choose for me.

Still, I guess things could have been worse.


	4. Double, Double

_Yeah, been a while, I know, but I haven't really been in the writing mood. Hopefully that's changed now and I'll get back to my usual pace.

* * *

_

**Chapter Four  
**_**Double, Double

* * *

**_

I spent the rest of the weekend trying to fend off the taunts and teases of my house, ignore the fact that I was being ignored by everyone else, and avoid running into the mischievous poltergeist Peeves, whom appeared to have taken a liking to snatching my things and hanging them from the ceiling. I tended to hide out in the grounds most of the time. After the havoc of the ink spill on Saturday, the solitude was definitely the more preferable option.

Soon Monday morning had crept up. As the students had yet to receive their timetables, I grudgingly decided that breakfast was the only option today. Sure enough, halfway through the piece of toast I was eating, a man with shallow skin, a hooked nose and greasy black hair walked down the table handing out sheets of paper. I recognised him from what I had overheard in the common room as our head of house and Potions Master, Professor Snape.

"Syter, Cassandra." He read in a cold, calculating voice. I raised my hand and he handed the timetable over to me.

"Thanks." I said but he had already read off the next name and was moving on. I looked down at the paper. This morning I had Potions, followed by Transfiguration, Charms and History of Magic. None of them looked too bad. I was even looking forward to the chance to get my mind off of my social position.

At five to nine I got up and made my way down to the dungeons where the Potions classroom was located. I took a seat at one of the few tables which were neither crowded with Slytherin glares nor already filled. It looked as if we were having Potions with the Ravenclaws. I sat opposite two prim looking girls at the front of the class. Each gave me an odd look and I smiled in return, hoping they would at least give me a chance. They immediately started whispering to each other and I doubted that was going to happen any time soon.

I looked around the classroom. It was colder down here than it was in other parts of the school, even in the Slytherin common room which I thought was, if anything, even further underneath the main building. It was also dark, the only light echoing from the torches lit in the walls. My unease was only heightened by the many jars lining the shelves containing potions, plants and fairly grotesque pickled animals. A gargoyle was spewing water from its mouth into a basin in one of the corners. I spotted Sarah sitting at the other end of the classroom and waved. She only pretended not to notice. The only way in which I would enjoy spending a day down here would be if I was a bat.

Just as I was pondering whether Professor Snape had perhaps been brought up in a cave, the door slammed open. Professor Snape stormed in, his cloak flapping wildly behind him, and marched straight up to the front of the class.

"Wands away." He ordered. Half the class returned their wand to their bag or pocket. He then proceeded to take the roll call, looking as if he was barely even noticing the names as he read them out. He stood straight and peered at the class in front of him. No one dared to speak. I had to admit to myself, even if the atmosphere was amazingly creepy, it did the job of keeping order in the class.

"In this classroom you will be learning the delicate art that is potion making." Snape began. It was barely a whisper and yet the entire class caught every word. "I doubt many of you will appreciate the subtle beauty of a simmering cauldron or the glistening fumes, with even less of you truly understanding the precise science behind the magic. The possibilities that can come from a correctly brewed potion are beyond some of the greatest mind. With the correct application there will be little in this world that is out of reach for you… That's if you contain even the slightest bit more intelligence than the usual morons I am forced to teach."

I was tempted to laugh at that, but a quick scan of the room made me realise that I was the only one. No one else was even smiling. Snape looked down at the roll call in his hands.

"Calingham!" he suddenly shouted. Everyone jumped, including a very scared looking Sarah towards the back. She raised her hand in response. "What is the main ingredient of a swelling solution?"

Sarah looked like a deer caught in the headlights. After a good two minutes of her simply staring wide-eyed at Professor Snape, he decided to speak again. "Have you perhaps taken a silencing potion before entering my classroom or do you purely not know how to speak?"

"I- erm-" Sarah stuttered, "I don't know the answer, sir."

"Then you shall say so and not perform an impression of one of the suits of armour. White!" Snape had looked down his nose at the register again. An average looking boy at the table next to ours slowly lifted his arm, his eyes the size of dinner plates. "What are the main ingredients of a befuddlement draught?"

"Uh-"

A malicious smile grew across Snape's face as the boy continued to stammer. "Yes?"

"Sn- Sneeze… wort?" White whispered with his eyes squinted up as if expecting to be yelled at for his answer.

Snape's smile disappeared. "Go on." He said slowly.

"And- uh- ginger?"

"There will be no need for random guess-work in my class Mr White. Continue to do so and you shall soon find yourself challenged in the living capacity." I did feel bad for White. Honestly. But the way Snape had put his swipe was just so funny. I couldn't help it. A little giggle escaped my mouth. It was like thunder amid the silence. Everyone's head snapped round to face me. I suddenly didn't find it very funny anymore.

"Something amusing, Miss…?"

"Syter. No, professor. Nothing amusing." I bit my lip anxiously.

"Then you will kindly tell me the main use runespoor eggs in potions, won't you Miss Syter?" Snape had walked right up to our table now and was peering directly into my eyes. I had an urge to shiver under the venom emanating from him.

"I- I'm not sure, sir," I admitted. Snape's smile returned and he began to walk back towards the blackboard at the front of the class. "But-"

He twisted around to face me again, an eyebrow rose in wait for what I was saying. I worked it through in my mind, hoping that my thoughts weren't completely insane.

"But seeing as the runespoor is known for its three minds, their eggs in all likelihood will be used for something that enhances mental ability… won't they?" Snape was silent for a moment, his gaze firmly on my face. I stared back nervously.

"Five…" he finally let out quietly, letting the teeniest bit of surprise show in his voice, "points… to Slytherin."

Murmurs started up around the class.

"Quiet!" Snape snapped. "Now kindly turn to page 14 of Magical Drafts and Potions and I will begin attempting to impart those brains of yours with some form of applicable information."

The rest of the lesson was surprisingly fun.

* * *

Over the next few weeks I became accustomed to the many different teaching styles at Hogwarts. My favourite subject soon became Potions; not for frankly terrifying atmosphere that had you believing the tiniest mistake would have your spleens on the ceiling, but mainly for Professor Snape's hilarious one-liners and insults, delivered with the deepest sincerity. Plus it looked like I had a knack for it, and that always helped in improving lessons.

Transfiguration – that's turning one thing into another, by the way – was also alright. McGonagall taught that. She was indeed as strict as she had first appeared, but she was also fair and a good teacher. By the end of my first lesson I had successfully transfigured a match into a needle, earning more points that my house did not deserve in the slightest.

Professor Droon taught Defence Against the Dark Arts, a class I was extremely excited about, but alas, we appeared to be doing no more than reading from the textbook at the moment. Droon says we'll get round to doing some practical in a bit, but for the first few weeks the classes were exceedingly dull. Not as dull as History of Magic, mind you. The most exciting part of the lesson was when ghostly Professor Binns glided in through the blackboard. I would have succeeded in sleeping through most of the endless lectures on goblin riots had it not been for the occasional paper missile thrown at my head from the other Slytherins.

Charms, Herbology and Astronomy were alright as far as school goes. I couldn't say I was particularly interested in the magical properties of dittany or proper positions of Venus throughout the year's skies, but the classes were by no means boring. Professor Flitwick, Sprout, and Sinistra actually knew how to teach a lesson. Besides, at least knowing these things could be useful in the real world.

But outside of the lessons, nothing seemed to be improving. The rest of my house continued teasing me. The rest of the school continued ignoring me. The only person I found I could talk to was Hagrid, whom I made sure to visit at least once a week. In fact, I seemed to get along with the teachers and staff far better than any of the students. They would actually talk to me like a person and not a filthy blood traitor or dirty Slytherin.

Soon the weather began to get colder, and I found my personality slipping alongside it. I found I was clever enough to learn enough magic to keep the other Slytherins from messing with my things or downright insulting me to my face, but that just led to further isolation. From time to time I would miss the taunts and sneers. At least they were acknowledgement of my existence. As October slipped into the cold, wet November, I found that when I entered a room, no one even noticed I was there. I gradually felt my persona creeping further backwards and backwards, deeper inside myself, only venturing forward in my time with Hagrid. Days slipped past. I was barely aware of them. Weeks merged together; only discernable by the changing weather I sometimes spotted in my time in the castle grounds. By the time Christmas came, my outer surface had no trace of a soul left.

I tried to hide the change in my attitude from Granma Sue over the Christmas break, but I'm sure she noticed something was up. On the one hand I was grateful for my time away from Hogwarts and the chance to genuinely smile once more, but on the other I found I missed the lake and the grounds, the sight of the rolling mountains of impenetrable forest and the homely smoke coming from Hagrid's cabin. Despite my hatred of what the place had done to my spirit, I was now a Hogwarts student, and Hogwarts was now my home.

_Review?_


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